


take five

by monokowritesstuff



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (ryuji is the one that has it not akira), Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Other, Synesthesia, nonbinary akira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26161585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monokowritesstuff/pseuds/monokowritesstuff
Summary: Ryuji gets caught up in Akira's time signature.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 10
Kudos: 105





	take five

**Author's Note:**

> y'all: noooo hexi you can't just post a drabble that's been sitting in your drafts for months what about roll back the log n watercolor heart and stuff  
> me: haha projection go brrrrrrrr  
> but yeah this is hella self indulgent and there are a lot of headcanons here lolololol  
> Ryuji's synesthesia thingies are based on my own so yeahhh boiiii

Akira liked jazz.

Whenever given the chance, they’d hum or tap out a tune only they could hear. It was a subtle thing, but Ryuji picked up on it every time. Maybe it was because they were always in close quarters. He may not have recognized what tunes they were or where they came from, but the slow, swinging rhythm in Akira’s voice and the bouncing of their foot were telling enough. He didn’t want to admit it, but the sound was almost addicting in its own special way. 

That was until Ryuji started to recognize tunes just by Akira’s humming alone. 

He still wasn’t quite good at it, but there were a few songs on the radio that sounded way too close to them. Once the association was made, Ryuji couldn’t help but get the weird feeling he got in his chest when Akira was around whenever he heard them, and he often found himself humming along when he’d catch the songs out in his daily life. His mother liked jazz too, so his interest seemed like a thing passed down to her. 

If only she knew.

Regardless of his reason, she told him names when he asked, and fueled his spiraling addiction further and further until he was sucked into a whirlpool of sax riffs and trumpet trills, desperate for just a taste of what Akira felt. Hell, he was just desperate to see Akira. The real Akira. The mysterious air about them made them feel like a puzzle; something to be solved and put together piece by piece. He wanted a glance into what made them tick.

Jazz was just one of those pieces, but it was a good start.

* * *

“Do you mind?” Akira said, looking over at Ryuji with a gaze that could only be described as smoldering. “I know jazz probably isn’t your thing, but it helps me focus when I study.”

“Nah, man, it’s no problem. I don’t care what you put on as long as you help me with this junk.” 

The heat in the attic was stifling. That’s what it was, right? Akira couldn’t afford to install an A/C unit, so it had to have been the sticky heat that was making Ryuji sweat bullets. Not Akira. Absolutely not Akira, or the soft lilt to their voice as they spoke, or the light tapping of their pencil in time to the music they had taken up. No way.

“Hey, Akira,” Ryuji mumbled, trying to vent some of the odd pressure that was building up in his chest. “What song is this? ‘S kinda catchy. Doesn’t sound like the stuff I usually hear when people mention jazz.”

_It doesn’t sound like what I’ve heard you sing. It doesn’t feel like you._

“Hmm?” Akira’s eyes seemed to light up at the prospect. It wasn’t fair, how endearing they could be, or how that endearingness made Ryuji feel. God, it wasn’t fair. “Oh, yeah. It’s, um, acid jazz. It’s a little different than normal or smooth jazz so it was a little strange to get used to, but once I did it became one of my favorite types. I can… turn it up, if you’d like that?”

Ryuji could never say no to them. He nodded, flashing Akira a trembling smile. If he let what he was feeling spill, it would snap the piano wire tension in the air. That wasn’t what he needed. He’d let it dangle forever if he could. The prospect of what could be. 

It would be easy if he could just _stop thinking_. Push away the craving to feel the jazz with Akira, to taste it on their lips rather than having the flavor of it ring hollow and bitter in his mouth on its own. Where was that even coming from? 

And bitter was an understatement, with this kind of jazz. It earned its name well, sharply cutting across Ryuji’s tongue with every swooping note. It stung him at first, but soon he came to like it, like the biting taste of lime soda in the summertime. But even if he liked it, it still felt like it was missing something. Something important. Something vaguely shaped like them.

“Ryuji? You okay?” they glanced up at him, shaking Ryuji to his core. “The music isn’t distracting you, is it?”

“No, it’s fine. Just thinking about how it tastes.”

Fuck.

Why would he say that? That doesn’t even make any sense! It’s music, music doesn’t have a taste!

But… It did to him. The rock he usually listened to had a peppermint chill. Ann’s pop was bubblegum sweet. Even the weird traditional music that Yusuke listened to had a taste (black licorice and matcha. An eccentric combo that was murder on Ryuji’s palate.) And of course, there was Akira and their jazz. Sweet like vanilla, but smoky and bold all at the same time. 

Wasn’t that how everyone felt? All his friends fit the tastes of their music, so surely they knew?

“Tastes? I’m interested. Describe it to me.” their reaction was too earnest, too eager. Ryuji was prepared for them to react with confusion. Not kind interest.

“Well… uh… I know this is kinda weird, but when I listen to music, I can… taste it? Like, I hear the songs and all of that, but I also get a taste in my mouth.” he stammered, failing to meet Akira’s grey gaze. “Like with this song, it tastes like lime soda. It’s like. Tangy. In a good way.”

Akira raised their eyebrows. Never a good sign. It meant they were up to no good.

“Is it just for my music? Or everyone else’s, too?”

“Yeah, it’s everybody. My music too.”

“Ryuji…” they grinned. “You have synesthesia. That’s beautiful.”

“Synes-who?”

“Synesthesia. It’s when two of your senses work together to help you perceive stuff. It’s super rare.”

“Really? I thought everyone could do it.” Ryuji chuckled, shaking his head. “You guys fit what your music tastes like.”

Akira said nothing, but their trademark smirk slowly eased over their face as they moved a little closer to Ryuji.

“I wanna see something. You don’t mind if I do a little experiment on you, do you?” they were absolutely up to no good. Ryuji could see it all in their face, hear it in the purr laden in their voice, and just barely taste it on the tip of his tongue. Voices didn’t usually resonate strongly taste-wise, but Akira was absolutely an exception. It was like music all on its own.

“I guess?” he’d play along, of course. He always did.

“So acid jazz is lime soda… This is a song called ‘Take Five’. What taste do you get from it? Close your eyes, too, to get the full effect.”

“Ooookay..? ...Chocolate. Like Pocky. Or the good Meiji stuff. It’s a little bitter, so I guess it’s dark chocolate.”

“I see, I see… What about this one? ‘Besame Mucho’ is the title.”

“Salted caramel. And… whipped cream, I think? The strawberry shortcake kind. Dense.”

“This one? ‘Three to Get Ready’.”

“Sparkling water. The passionfruit kind that Ann likes.”

“Okay, one more, and then I’ll leave you alone. How about this one?” 

Ryuji waited for the song to start, but it never came. He absolutely got a flavor, though.

“Coffee,” he said through the press of Akira’s lips, melting into it as he spoke. “Coffee, and... something sweet. Like everything I’ve been imagining. I think I like this song a lot.”

It was smooth and sweet and full-bodied, making Ryuji’s heart pound. Akira knew just how to move their lips in time with the music. Blissful didn’t even begin to describe how it felt. Ryuji couldn’t think about anything but Akira. Akira’s warmth, Akira’s smell, Akira’s touch, every single piece of them coming together in a cacophony of sensory overload that felt all too good. 

He already felt warmer than the sun, but when Akira pulled him closer and into their lap with their fingertips under his chin and a hand firmly planted on his hip, Ryuji felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him. He grabbed at their shirt, coaxing forth a small gasp from them that made him shiver. It was strange, taking the lead from Akira; they were too proud to let someone else take charge any other time, yet here they were, dissolving underneath the weight and give of Ryuji's lips. It was intoxicating. 

It didn’t last long, however. Akira managed to wrestle back control by trailing their lips down to Ryuji’s collarbone, planting butterfly kisses up and down his neck with an unmatched fervor. The frames of their glasses bumped against him a few times, breaking up Akira’s flow; but they eventually cast them aside to focus their entire attention on Ryuji. He couldn’t help but snake his fingers into their hair, trying to ground himself in the midst of Akira’s swinging rhythm. He could feel their kisses shift from soft and light to something more desperate and full of want. It felt like a dance, moving from a waltz to jazz to a full-on swing. 

Ryuji felt them hesitate for a moment. Did he do something wrong? Were they not enjoying it? He resolved himself quietly to pulling fully away from them before feeling the tiniest nip on his collar. Ryuji gazed down at Akira, trying to figure out what they were planning. There must have been a reason for them to stop.

He never got to work it out in his head, though, because soon he was melting into Akira’s lips again. They had begun to gently lap at his neck, eventually clamping down and leaving several marks in a line. It stung just a little, just enough to draw a whine from Ryuji that sounded very unlike him. It made Akira pause, pull away, and look up at him, their eyes clouded over and smoking like the last embers on hot coals. Calling it attractive would be an understatement.

“Sorry,” they murmured, pressing their fingertips to Ryuji’s neck and tracing a haphazard line between the marks they left. “Did I hurt you? I know I can get a little overzealous.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Ryuji huffed, trying to steady his breathing. “You’re… You’re good at this, not gonna lie.”

“I’ve kissed a few people, but I have to say that you’re my favorite.” Akira purred and stroked his cheek. “For someone who’s never even gotten a girl’s number, you’re a pretty decent kisser.”

“As if, dude! This isn’t my first-”

“Yes it is. I can tell. Especially with the way you tried to sweep the rug out from under my feet. It was a cute attempt, though.”

Ryuji pouted and looked away from them, a blush creeping its way across his face again. Damn them, and their smooth talking and soft lips. Damn it all to hell. They had no right to make him feel like this, especially when he wasn’t expecting it. None of this was expected, really; Ryuji had his hopes up, but Akira had always felt untouchable, so he didn’t really bank on getting what he wanted. Not one bit. 

“I know you said I tasted like coffee, but that was a given.” they grinned. “Anything else? There was a song playing, too. Did the flavors mix well, Ryuji?”

“Look man, that coffee taste is too damn strong for me to taste anything else.” which was partly true; but most of him tasting that and that alone was a result of his attention going… elsewhere. Not that he’d ever admit that to them. “Even on you it’s too effin’ bitter.”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna stop drinking coffee, so you’re just going to have to live with it if we start dating.”

“D-Dating…?” _again,_ Ryuji flushed. He was gonna die with the amount of blood rushing to his face today. “Who said anything about-”

“Ryuji.” Akira said firmly, sending a quick shiver up Ryuji’s spine. It was the tone of voice they used to command in the Metaverse, his reaction to which concerned him. “We just made out, and I left a hickey constellation on your neck. We can’t just go back to being friends after that and you know it.”

“...You’re right, but… You deserve someone better than me, y’know? I’ll just weigh ya down. You’re great ‘n kinda hot ‘n confident ‘n shit, and I’m just… meh.”

“That’s not true at all.”

Akira leaned in for another kiss, but a gentler one this time; they cupped Ryuji’s cheek in their hand and smooched him softly, stroking his cheek gently with a thumb. It made sparks fly in Ryuji’s head, settling his swiftly beating heart to a gentle rolling tempo. All too quickly, they pulled away.

“I find you quite nice,” Akira said, ruffling his hair a little. “Lovely, even. I love who you are and what you stand for, and how adamantly you fight for those who can’t. You’re wonderful, Ryuji. And I’d be honored to be with you.”

“...Alright, I’ll give.” Ryuji sighed and wrapped his arms around Akira’s neck. “We can try this whole dating thing. But you gotta promise not to say sappy stuff like that anymore. Makes me blush too much.”

“Can’t make any promises there.”

To his surprise, Akira buried their face in Ryuji’s shoulder, nuzzling him very gently. Somehow, it made his heart soar more than anything else they had done that day. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he did know that he liked it a lot. He liked _Akira_ a lot. It was never about jazz, although he liked that too; it was spending time with Akira, and connecting with them on a level beyond friendship. 

Akira liked jazz. Ryuji liked it too. But most of all, they liked each other, swinging together in time like a pair of partners on a waltz.


End file.
